Vergas looks up from dealing with pots and pans and shoots Arcus a mean glare. After a moment or two he relaxes, slowly sets down the pan he had gripped like a mace, and smiles thinly: "Brother Arcus, we can always count on you to bring a hailstorm when a brief shower would suffice to make us miserable. Vana, the Lady of Law, has wisdom even for the non-believer as long as he will listen. Her tidings are of order and duty, lord and country, humility and steadfastness. The strength of the one who will stand up against the roiling chaos of the many and face them calmly." He spits into the fire. "You would count yourself lucky to have her on your side. But now I shall return to Master Potts and his teachings, for both body and soul must be strong in the worthy believer. You can pray with me later if you wish."

Tumbly nods and mumbles a thanks through a full mouth. Dropping his plate he turns to Potts:

discuit wrote:"So lads....who wants a hot breakfast?"

"Second breakfast! You'll not have to twist my arm Potts." Picking his plate back up he shoves it at Potts, "I've made a happy plate for you to place your bounty upon."

Tumbly then devours the second helping of food.

ratikranger wrote:"You would count yourself lucky to have her on your side. But now I shall return to Master Potts and his teachings, for both body and soul must be strong in the worthy believer. You can pray with me later if you wish."

"I always county myself lucky to to awaken and find a woman by my side."

The dawn sun has just broken the horizon on another cold, grey--but thankfully not wet--autumn (aka fall) day.

The wider camp is just beginning to stir, but our stalwart group of misfit mercenaries are fed, packed, and ready to embark on what might be the broadest opportunity of their "sword for hire" careers.

A camp officer trudges into what's left of the firelight and quickly ascertains everyone's readiness. It's Helmund Frie, the squint-eyed, no-nonsense grey hair who has been charged with organising this errand.

"Listen up, pilchards," he growls, and--not wanting to somehow be cheated of this one chance--you heed him despite his unfriendly demeanor. "Won't pretend I approve of this fool's mission, or trust you lot to do it proper, but when the Signor orders it; we get it done. You hear me? We get it done. That's what yer paid for." He pauses to mete out meaningful glares to the less trustworthy types among you.

"We're sendin' you lot out there to find Dramorian's crew, or any sign of what happened to 'em. Don't go believin' any o' that cheap talk about gold and jewels, or thinkin' you'll be gettin' yer mitts on any of it. That's chump-talk, plain an' simple."

"You get out there east an' trawl that bog from north to south 'til you find Dram's lot. Half way thru you'll meet up with the Signor's other team, who'll be trawling south to north. When you find 'em, you bring 'em in. Word is the Lizards* are movin' west in numbers; there's already bin some serious fightin'. My guess is we're gonna need all the men we can get before long." he gives a disdainful grunt--clearly reckoning not all of you figure for men.

"Right, get going!" he dismisses you with a resigned wave, "I want you gone before the morning bell!" He turns, shaking his head, and trudges off into the camp, his heavy mail coat shinking with each step...

* There have been intermittent skirimishes throughout the season with the kobolds and lizardmen who inhabit the moorlands. These are not the purpose of the campaign proper--a regional squabble between Human Marquises--and are considered more of a nuisance than a genuine threat.

| Right good people, your first turn will be a wilderness exploration turn.

Your "offical" mission is to head east to the misty mire the lies about a day's march off, and from there search the mire for sign of the missing men, and return them to camp once found. With 14 charisma and his lawful nature, Vergas is the notional "leader" of this patrol, though the rest of you may well have your own ideas on that too.